The Pretender
by Tom Beaumont
Summary: George and Izzie meet at Joe's to...well... Rated T.


**The Pretender**

George was in the middle of playing darts when Izzie walked in the front door of Joe's, glowing and gorgeous in blue jeans and a cream-colored sweater. His eyes couldn't help but follow as she found an empty table about halfway across the room. It took him only a moment to set down his last dart and approach with care and caution.

When he was a few inches away from her, he stopped. Took a breath. Then blurted, "Hello? You're Doctor Stevens, right?"

Izzie looked up. Her eyes searched his twitching expression. "Yes," she replied. "And you're Doctor O'Malley."

"Wow," he replied, excitement crackling in his voice. "You know my name."

She squinted at him. "Yes, George, I know your name."

"Oh, boy," he said. "I'm just an intern and you're – you're – oh, boy."

"What are you doing?" Izzie asked.

"My buddies over there, they dared me to come over," George said, as he pointed to a far table at a group of non-surgical interns. "Sorry. I'm just so…nervous. Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," she said, nodding at the chair opposite her.

"Thank you," he replied. Then he started shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and then back again, the happy-scared smile not leaving his face.

Izzie fought a snicker. "Did you want to wait awhile to sit down, or…"

George's shoulders jerked a bit, like he'd just had a jolt of electricity go through him. "Oh. Ha. Right." Then he sat.

Izzie leaned into him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

His head bobbed a bit as he started fidgeting with his fingertips. "Well, I – I've noticed you around the hospital, and you – you – uh – "

"What about me?" she asked.

"You're a terrific doctor," he said, losing interest in his nails. "A terrific surgeon. I mean, you have so much skill in the operating room, it's like you've been doing it forever. That you're just a resident..." He caught her eyes with his gaze. "It's automatic, that's it. You just know what to do and how to do it. And then, with patients and families, you're so sensitive and respectful, but you've got authority and presence, so nobody walks all over you. It's really, really cool."

Izzie's cheeks grew rosy. "Thank you," she said.

George was on a roll, and the words spilled out. "And with other doctors, even interns, you listen. You take everybody's opinions in, even if they're wrong, and you don't treat a single one like they're gum on your shoe, even if they're ten times more annoying. And – and – " he said, the words suddenly retreating back into him, and taking his confidence with them.

Izzie craned her neck to find his eyes again. "And…"

George shyly studied the tabletop for a moment before he blurted, "You've got the nicest smile." He looked up to see that she was giving him one. "Yeah, that's it. Just lights up every room you come into. Makes everybody feel better, like things are gonna be okay, no matter what." He paused for a moment, and then added, "And your eyes? They just shine. So bright. Hopeful. But they see, know what I mean?"

Izzie nodded. "I think so."

"And over the last few weeks, after working with you a couple of times, I was wondering…hoping…that maybe – maybe you saw me," he said. "It's silly. I know I'm just an intern and all, but I thought maybe…"

She glowed, and her warmth and light was just for him. "Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, I saw you."

"Yeah?" Hope filled the question. "Good things, right?"

"Very good things," she replied. "You're gentle and genuine with virtually everyone who walks through the doors of that hospital, but you're a complete professional, and certainly nobody's doormat." She shrugged. "That you already show promise as a surgeon, well – "

"You're just saying that," he said, a bit of a blush coloring his cheeks.

"No, I'm not, Doctor," Izzie said, putting her hand on his. "I've watched you work, and so have others. All of us residents agree that you have great hands. And the attendings can't stop talking about your attentiveness to detail. It's something that not only saves lives, but actually improves them." She traced his fingers with hers. "That's a gift I envy."

"Envy? Me?" George giggled shyly, his attention on her touch.

"Yes." She raised her fingers to his chin, and raised his eyes to hers. "And – you have very nice eyes, too."

"Thanks," he said.

Her expression melted to something hungrier. More seductive. "Are you – alone – right now?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," he said softly. "Why?"

Her gaze flickered with a kind of indescribable heat. "I just thought we could get out of here," she purred. "Go find a nice quiet place to talk about your hands. About attention to detail. Maybe you'd have some pointers for me."

"Sure," George said. He gestured behind himself again, in the vague direction of the far table. "I just need to – "

His speech was stopped by her pressing a deep kiss on to his mouth. They breathed together. Sighed. When the kiss broke, he looked into her eyes, and at the soft red lips that were so close, and he had to fight that almost irresistible urge to sweep the table clear and take her right there in the middle of Joe's. What would his friends at the far table think?

Izzie leaned into his ear, and whispered with breath heated by an intense fire: "Home. Bed. Now."

"Can do," he replied, a shiver in his voice.

They didn't get home. Or to bed. But the back seat of her car was surprisingly comfortable and roomy, and even reasonably private in the parking garage. As she lay on top of him, some parts exposed, some parts not, and taking in gasps of now-steamy air, Izzie sighed. "That was – oh – that was so fun," she said. Then she pressed a kiss against his collarbone, and added, "I just wish you would have told me we were playing 'intern and resident' tonight."

George tried to take a deep breath as he traced her naked back with his fingers. "Sorry, it was all spur-of-the-moment. You walked in, you looked incredible…"

"Don't apologize," she said. "You were so freakin' cute, I couldn't resist. That nervous thing you do? Improving every time."

He grinned. "Did you like the pointing at the far table?"

"Yeah," she said, kissing his chin. "Nice touch."

"Character development, you know," he said, finding her lips with his again. "So am I Emmy-worthy yet?"

She chuckled sweetly. "Maybe a nomination."

"Mmm," he said. "Anyway I can cinch it?"

"I can think of a couple things you could do," she said, painting his lips with her fingers.

He felt her body melting into his. "Do they involve attention to detail, Doctor Stevens?" he whispered, letting his hands wander into places still covered.

"Most definitely, Doctor O'Malley," she said softly, again and again.

**THE END**


End file.
